


darling, this was just as hard

by borzbois



Series: we're gonna make it this time, darling [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Chipped Catra (She-Ra), F/F, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Making Out, Mind Control, Mutual Pining, Pining, Princess Prom (She-Ra), Recovery, but like spicy canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borzbois/pseuds/borzbois
Summary: "oh, look at you little sister. your adora causes you nothing but suffering."don't want no other shade of blue but you / no other sadness in the world will do
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: we're gonna make it this time, darling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855054
Comments: 5
Kudos: 109





	darling, this was just as hard

Catra winces as the two Horde clones at her sides force her to her knees, hard metal on her bones sending a grating pain through her body. She looks at the floor, a scowl set firmly on her jaw as she tries to focus on anything but how she's shaking like a leaf. She can feel the hot prickling of tears at her eyes, and lets them well up. 

What does it matter anymore? She doesn't have to pretend like she's not scared. 

She lost, and she realizes that there's something freeing in that realization. 

Catra is so, so tired. 

She's tired of fighting, claws and teeth bared at the ready. She's tired of lying to herself, of trying to paint herself into the picture of pristine control. She's tired of building her armor up over and over again. She's tired of constantly fighting to stay above water, and when your only goal is _don't drown_ —well, it becomes much harder to care about what happens to you after you're pulled to the shore. 

Horde Prime is _seething_. 

"I'm very disappointed in you, little sister." 

"Yeah, well, get in line," she hisses. "You think that's the first time I've heard that one?"

Catra lets out a sharp gasp as he takes her jaw in his hand and turns her face upward, to look at him. His grip is strong, nails digging into her skin, leaving a searing sting in their wake. She can't hide the tears that spill over and trail down her cheeks now, but she still looks at him with determination. His eyes are ablaze with fury, but she can tell he hasn't given up. There's a sparkle of joy in his eye that tells her that he still has a plan, and just that thought alone makes her stomach drop. 

Horde Prime waves his hands, and she is escorted away. 

This isn't how Catra thought she would die. She always imagined some gloriously brutal death on the battlefield, or in a one-on-one duel. But she didn't imagine laying down and giving up, where no one would hear her scream, where no one would know what happened to her. 

( _Where no one would miss her.)_

Catra refuses to go quietly. 

She is tired, but she fights. She fights for every moment, every second of freedom she has, if only to piss Horde Prime off. If only to buy Adora a little more time. But they are so much stronger than her, and she is so, so tired...

She screams as they strap her down, feet hanging off the end and her cheek pressed uncomfortably to the cold metal. It looks too much like a surgical table for her liking. She scratches at them as best as she can, yelling and crying all the while. She must look so unhinged, hair flying everywhere, tears and teeth and talons gnawing and pulling at whatever she can reach. 

When she feels a needle in her skin, she freezes. Eyes wide, she feels a cool liquid enter her veins and she realizes that _this is it._ Tears fall from her eyes and she sobs, weakly pulling at her restraints. Words fall from her mouth but she doesn't know what they are. 

"That's right, little sister," she hears one of the clones say. "Just relax for a little while."

The room is fuzzy now, the vague shapes of the clones above her distorting, swaying in what she was positive was a still room. Their green eyes seem to hum, filling the room with a quiet static that drowns out their voices. A strange feeling creeps up her skin, as if she's feeling invisible tides wash over her, pulling her deep underneath the cresting waves. 

This time, she lets them. 

_ Oh, it's so quiet now... _

* * *

"...tra? Hey, Catra, what's wrong?" 

Catra takes in a deep, gasping breath as her eyes fly open, sitting up to clutch at her chest. Her eyes dart around, trying to figure out where she is, what she needs to do—

Oh. She's in the Fright Zone. Of course she is, that's where she fell asleep last night. 

(... _Right_?)

"Babe, are you okay?"

Catra turns to Adora, who has a hesitant hand resting on her back, and another one on her thigh. Catra can see the book she had to hastily put down—pages open, spine to the ceiling, when she knows that Adora religiously uses bookmarks. 

She looks around to make sure no one else is awake, that no one else heard her moment of weakness. But they're not in their dorm, instead a private room, one that's only reserved for Force Captains. 

Right. They're both Force Captains and this is their room. 

"Yeah," Catra finally answer, running a hand through her hair to brush back the bit that stuck to the sweat of her forehead. She lets out a deep, heaving sigh before laying her head back down in Adora's lap. "Just had a weird dream."

Adora hums, immediately beginning to run her hands through Catra's hair absent-mindedly. Catra wonders how loud her purr is, a blush sneaking across her cheeks, but she can't help it when Adora's touch feels _so_ good. Why does she feel like she's been waiting for this moment for ages? 

She has it all, right here. 

"Wanna talk about it?" Adora asks, a quiet murmur. 

"Nah," Catra replies, nuzzling further into Adora's touch. "Just a stupid dream."

* * *

_Adora left her._

_Catra remembers far too vividly that first night._

_Tucked into the quietest, secluded corner of the Fright Zone, she cried and cried and cried. She doesn't think she's ever cried like that before. She's never felt a pain so overwhelming, so intense that it felt like her heart stopped beating, that it felt like her lungs were going to explode, that she has never wanted anything more than blissful numbness._

_She wasn't fucking good enough._

_She was never good enough, and now the one person who made her think otherwise had left, too. It fills her with so much hurt, so much rage, that she can't stand it._

_In an instant, all the hurt is soothed out of her, like a wave washing over her. Suddenly, she's not conflicted anymore, her brain isn't muddled by feelings and emotions—she'll serve Horde Prime. That's all she needs to do, that's all she has to do to drown out the pain._

_ Finally, finally, she's free. _

* * *

They are seventeen. 

The wind whips their hair back as they yell out cries of sheer joy, adrenaline, open-mouthed laughter drowned out by the sound of the skiff's engine. When Catra slows down, maneuvers the skiff into an open field near the edge of the Whispering Woods, they have enough gas to get home. 

( _Why do I know that?_ )

They lay down on the grass, shoulder to shoulder, to stare at the sky above them. It's sunset, the sky filling with soft shades of purple and pink and orange, and the clouds that float along in the wind are the only blemish in the otherwise clear expanse above them. 

"Do you ever wonder about what's out there?" Adora asks, voice barely a whisper. "Up there, I mean. In space." 

( _ Millions of stars,  _

_ other planets,  _

_ magic beyond our wildest imagination. The  _

_ terrifying gargoyle that sits on his perch,  _

_ eyes  _

_ always  _

_watching—_ )

"Sometimes," Catra answer, before moving to turn on her side, to look at Adora. "But I've got everything I need here. Fuck space."

Adora laughs, open-mouthed and unrestrained, goofy little giggles slipping from her tongue. Catra can't help but smile, tail curling and coiling over and over again in pleasure at seeing Adora be...free, for once. 

Adora is always wound too tight. All "Yes, Sir"s and "Right away, Ma'am"s, never relenting from her stupidly rigid sense of duty. No one but Catra got to see just how tired it would make her, slumped shoulder's climbing into her bunk late at night, tense muscles from whatever training she had gotten up to that day. No one but Catra paid enough attention to hear how quickly Adora falls asleep every night, quiet snores echoing through the room within moments of her head hitting the pillow. 

Catra worries about how she'll be as a Force Captain. 

"Hey, Adora?" 

"Yeah?"

"Take care of yourself, please." Her voice is uncharacteristically soft. "Don't forget about me."

She can't bear to look into Adora's eyes, but she can feel Adora's gaze on her. It's nerve-wracking, but at the same time she can't help but relish the feeling, like sitting in a warm patch of sunlight. 

Adora is the only person whose ever really _seen_ her, and she doesn't know what she'd do if—

( _She left you. She left you. She left you._ ) 

"Oh, Catra." Adora's voice is so tender, the back of her knuckles brushing against Catra's cheek. Catra looks up, bright eyes wide with confusion, but her body can't lie. A purr rumbles from deep within her chest, head automatically leaning into Adora's touch. "You'll always be my home."

"Promise?"

Adora smiles, pulls Catra in to curl up on her chest. Catra stiffens at first, before hesitantly wrapping her arms around Adora. Their foreheads touch one another, and Catra swears she falls in love in that moment when she feels Adora's breath fan across her face as she whispers, 

" _ P _ _ romise." _

* * *

_Finally, finally she has Adora's attention. She has Adora's gaze, those beautiful bright eyes staring wide at her, hot tears running down her cheeks. Catra can feel them as her own, can remember the same way she's cried over Adora for countless nights. She relishes in the feeling of Adora watching as she saunters over, of the feeling of Adora's soft skin as she cups her pale cheek._

_"Prime has given me peace. Something you could never do. You broke my heart. But he has made it whole again. Don't you see? This is for the best. I'm happy here. You could be happy, too."_

_It feels different, saying the words out loud, even though they aren't her words._

_She wants to be happy. She wants to be happy with Adora._

_If only Adora would_ listen _!_

_But Adora's never listened a goddamn day in her life. Adora fights and fights and_ fights— _isn't she tired, too? Catra doesn't think she's ever seen Adora tired—even at her most exhausted, she is always ready to go. That pretty little brain of hers never stops thinking, never stops analyzing, never stops wondering._

_They dance once more._

_"Catra, listen to me. I know you're in there. I'm not leaving without you!"_

_ Adora's an idiot. _

* * *

She feels like she's been waiting her whole life for this moment. 

Under Adora's gaze, she has always felt vulnerable, open—like she matters. She would do anything if it meant that Adora would look at her, if it meant that Adora would love her, if Adora would _see_ her. There was something about those clear blue eyes that always made her weak in the knees, that made her soft where everyone else only saw the hard shell. 

"Catra," Adora whispers, brushes of her fingertips along Catra's cheek flitting across the skin. 

Catra has to push down a shiver, her heart thrumming in her chest, veins pumped full of skittish adrenaline. They're pressed together, chest to chest, legs threaded together. It feels so very warm in this room, despite the fact that she knows it's freezing, goosebumps prickling along both of their skin. Where they touch is like lightning coursing through her, and she grips harder on the waist of Adora's jacket just to make sure she doesn't fall.

"Hey, Adora," Catra murmurs, hoping her voice didn't quiver. 

Then Adora kisses her. 

Catra has to fight the urge to whimper into the kiss, her eyebrows knitting together as she pulls Adora closer, closer, closer. They kiss with a sweet fervor, desperately, as if this is their only chance. She feels Adora's hands clutch at her face, lovingly cradling her neck and her head as their lips move against one another. A purr resounds from deep in her chest, a reaction she's unable to control. 

They rest their foreheads together, their breathing heavy. They share a smile, one of ecstatic joy, one of relief, one of _finally, finally, finally_ —

Now they pull one another close, pressing as much of their bodies together as they can. Their kisses are frantic, open-mouthed, the floodgates of their mutual attraction finally broken. Catra's breath hitches as Adora's picks her up easily in her arms with nothing more than a quiet grunt and sits her on the edge of Adora's bed. 

* * *

_It's not fair._

_Catra has everything she could need here. She has peace, the raging storm of her mind finally quieted, her blissful dreams and soft hands and—_

_And Adora is here to ruin everything again._

_Catra is vaguely aware that her body is bruised and aching, but she can't feel it. Her movements aren't her own, filled with a strength she's never carried before. It's as if she's a ragdoll, her body being pulled in different directions by invisible strings that pull at her from the inside out, contorting her into whatever they need. Whatever he needs._

_She keeps fighting. It's fine now, to keep fighting. She's so used to being used, what does it matter now?_

_"Snap out of it, Catra!" Adora gasps desperately, blood running down her cheek, her arm. "I don't want to hurt you!"_

_A flash of rage surges through her, before the numbness can quell it. She can feel her claws extend automatically, her teeth gritting painfully in her mouth. For a moment she is breathless in her rage, in her hurt—before the calmness washes over her again, but it's different this time._

_"But you already have hurt me."_

_For the first time, she sees that Adora understands. That Adora_ sees _her, in all her horror and all her glory. For once, Adora isn't stuck in her perfect cloud of martyrdom and heroics—she sees that Catra is just as much a product of Shadow Weaver as she is, that she had her own part to play in Catra's hurt._

_ The anger ebbs away, but something else lies there in its wake.  _

* * *

"Why did you do it, Catra?" 

"Me?" Catra laughs. "You're the one who ruined everything."

They circle each other, steps even, calculated. She's not sure how much she believes it anymore, but it is just one more movement to their endless dance now. She'll take whatever she can get, as long as it means she has Adora's attention. At least Adora is looking at her, thinking about her, and she'd rather have that than nothing at all. 

"I did what was right, Catra," Adora retorts. "You could have, too."

Steel against steel. Catra isn't very good with weapons, but she knows how to improvise enough to hold her own against Adora. Their eyes meet, Adora's bright blue shining fierce and alive and—well, Catra wishes she could say the same. 

Catra jumps back, her baton dropping to the ground with a noisy clank. 

"You're right, I could have." Her voice is quiet. "I felt like I had something to prove. To show that I didn't need you. I thought I wanted power. I wanted someone to see _me_ —not my failures, not what I could do for them, what I could _be_ for them."

Adora doesn't move, either. They stand there, still looking into one another's eyes. Catra slowly lets herself sink to the ground, claws digging in deep into the ground beneath her. Her every instinct tells her to attack, to claw and scream and rip something apart but she is so, so tired of fighting. 

"And now?" Adora asks. "What do you want now?"

A sob breaks through Catra. 

"I just want you, Adora. That's all I've ever wanted."

* * *

Everything hurts. 

Her body feels like it was stuffed into the processor they use to make their gray slop, blended around and then spit back out, only to be pieced back together. Electricity crackles through her body, pushing that blissful numbness out. The hurt comes back in surges like waves, making her crash against the shore before pulling her back under the riptide again. 

"Adora...you should have stayed away. Why did you come back? We both _know_ I don't matter."

Adora's touch feels like heaven, it pushes that hurt back and fills her with wholeness. She can feel the desperation in Adora's grip on her, in the tears that spill over her cheeks. 

"You matter to _me_!"

Adora is looking at her. Adora sees her. 

It feels so, so good and it breaks her heart. How could she do this to her, now, after everything? Where was this Adora when she needed her? 

_(Hurts—_

_Everything  
__hurts—_

_—Wouldn't it be so nice not to hurt anymore?)_

"Come on, Catra! You've never listened to anyone in your life! Are you _really_ going to start now?"

But Catra had a part to play in this too. Catra isn't without blame, without fault for the way things turned out. She was so obsessed with—with being seen, by _somebody_ , _anybody_. But they used her and tossed her away and it made her bitter. 

She's tired of being bitter. She's tired of fighting the love she was so convinced she didn't deserve. She's tired of pushing everyone away, just because she's scared they'll leave her first. She's tired of making everyone else hurt, tired of being angry, sick from the venom that spills from her mouth.

( _Adora left you—_  
_Doesn't care about you_  
_Don't you want to make her hurt the way  
she made you hurt?_)

Catra smiles, weakly. "You're _such_ an idiot."

Adora is looking at her. Adora sees her. 

Her big blue eyes blink with tears and she laughs. "Yeah...I know..." 

_ I love you, you idiot. _

* * *

Lights float above them, dancing around the corners of the ballroom. It was strange, seeing the Fright Zone like this—well, it's not the Fright Zone anymore. Scorpia had really done a number on remodeling all the ruins that Hordak had left, and though people were hesitant at first, there was now a small village near the edge of the Whispering Woods. 

It's Princess Prom. 

Catra is dancing. She sways in Adora's arms, and it only takes a moment before she pulls her head up to really _look_ at Adora. 

Adora is... _beautiful_. She's draped in white and gold, long blonde hair tumbling down her back, a gentle smile on her face as she looks down at Catra. Her blue eyes twinkle in the low lights, full of warmth and love and it makes Catra want to cry. 

"This...isn't real, is it?" She whispers, her eyes never leaving Adora's. 

Adora's smile shifts, from one that's full of love and warmth to a gentle heartbreak. Slowly, she shakes her head. "No, it's not."

They dance in silence for a little while longer, while Catra takes this moment to memorize everything about it. Adora's steady heartbeat, the gentle grip on her waist, the look in Adora's eyes. 

"I'm scared, Adora."

"I know."

"I can't lose you again." Catra hates that her voice breaks in this moment. "I can't go back to you hating me, not after this. Not after seeing what could have happened." 

Adora presses her forehead to Catra's, and they sway in the music. They're the only ones there, bathed in light in an otherwise dark room. Adora looks ethereal, strong arms framed by the drape of her silky dress. 

"Oh, Catra," Adora whispers. Their faces are so close that her breath fans across Catra's face, and for a moment she wants to weep at the sweet, familiar smell. "I've always loved you."

"You can't just say that to me when we know this isn't real," Catra replies, tears bubbling in her eyes. This makes her entire heart ache, somehow worse than it did out of this bizarre dream-turned-hellscape. "I want you so bad it hurts." 

"It doesn't have to hurt." Adora's voice is so sweet in her ear, so gentle. "You'll see me again soon."

Catra buries her face in Adora's neck, taking in all of the time they have together while she has it. While she can. She takes a deep inhale of the scent she hasn't had in years—the smell of Adora's soap, soothing lemongrass and coconut, and just a touch of sweat underneath. She had slept with Adora's pillow until it lost this smell. 

"What if you don't forgive me?" Catra asks, voice shaking. "What if I survive all of this only—only to be all alone again?"

"You won't," Adora promises, cupping Catra's face. She places a kiss to Catra's lips, and it feels like heaven. Warm, soft, loving, all too much and not enough in one moment. Catra can't help but lean her head into one palm, tears spilling down her cheek. "You'll always be my home."

Catra looks up at her.

( _Adora, covered in blood and scratches, desperation painted on her face in broad strokes—_  
_"I'm going to take you home!" her voice breaks, tears well up in her eyes._   
_Catra opens her mouth, tongue dry and throat sore as she asks—)_

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

_"Come on, Catra... You're not done, not yet. We're going home_."

_ Can she? She wants to go home.  _

* * *

When she wakes, the pain is gone. 

Catra blearily opens her eyes, groaning. She coughs, something metallic and thick in her throat, lungs with a hint of a burn, like she just finished a long run. Something is soft around her—lemongrass and coconut, it reminds her of Adora, that smell. It's been so long since she smelled it, but it's just as strong as it is when Adora would come back from the shower. 

Her eyes flutter open, and she sees Adora. 

She's warm, floating, but not at all like the numb tidal wash of Horde Prime's brainwashing—no, this is gentle, calm, but she can still feel the rise and dip of the waves. Adora's gaze on her is like the warmth of the sun on her skin, pleasant and soothing. Her bright eyes pool with tears as they watch Catra's eyes open, as they look at Catra. 

"Hey, Adora," she mumbles, with a weak smile. 

Adora clutches her to her chest, and Catra can't help but embrace her just as tightly. They hold each other like it's been years, like the love was never gone, like they are just reuniting after a long trip. It breaks a little more of that armor away, those cracks she so desperately tried to patch beginning to peel away. 

It doesn't bother Catra anymore.

She's home. 


End file.
